Halo: Beyond Contact
by RiptideZ
Summary: Rewrite is in progress, Second Chapter Rerun up.
1. Chapter 1 - Mongol Charge

**Welcome back to Halo: Beyond Contact; as you may know if you read the story before, I haven't updated in a while, I don't like making excuses yet I will say it anyway; I've been preparing for my Exams and I tend to get distracted.**

**So Ya, sorry about the wait, currently I am now updating chapters to be better written and more detailed as I may have made my chapters a little to lacking and a tad bit short**.

**So no more talk; into the disclaimer and the story…**

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_Welcome to RiptideZ's "Halo: Beyond Contact," a non-profit fiction works under ownership of writer: RiptideZ._

_DISCLAIMER:_

"_All Halo and Mass Effect and other not yet mentioned works from said stated universes go to their creators at Bioware and Three-Four-Three Industries and other brands."_

"_RiptideZ owns nothing but his own plot, characters, and backdrop fiction."_

"_Thank you for reading and I hope you continue to read as the chapters continue to spew out of the empty blackness that is my mind."_

"_Constructive Criticism is supported, please, no ill-intended reviews or nerve-raking rants about being a bad writer."_

"_If anything is wrong with the work that needs improving in plot or characters, please I.M me or post it in the review section, I will in my best ability look into it and attempt to fix it."_

- RiptideZ

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"_**Sir, why do we fight for the U.N.S.C, I mean, not to be insubordinate or anything, but why? Why do we fight, wouldn't it be easier just to let all colonies be free."**_

"_**Without the U.N.S.C, none of these colonies, could exist. With the Covenant on our doorstep, if we were to be splintered, we would have been dead by '32."**_

_Gunnery Sergeant Victoria Garhwali (KIA-2552) and Commander Urban Holland (Colonel-2551),pre-Fall of Reach, December 2546_

(-)

**["MONGAL CHARGE"]**

**[SEPTEMBER 2555]**

**[SGT. GARY HARTMANN]**

**[FORMER COLONY OF ARAGON]**

"This is Panther 1-4, we got multiple Covvies inbound. We're hit, we're hit!"

Lightning flashed across a bleak sky with specks of flashing lights as rain beat down upon a vast jungle like bombs toward an unaware target, bullet rounds flew across a battlefield where heated plasma bolts returned fire from opposing sides. On all sides of the forest cries from humans being burned and aliens being silenced for good echoed throughout the trees.

"Fireteam Valor, hold your position, reinforcements are in route to your position now."

Sgt. Gary Hartmann listened to his team radio as he took cover behind a cooked sandbag in a makeshift hut. An advanced listening post to catch enemy transmissions between Covenant forces scattered around the region.

Brutes may not speak English or any human language yet translation mechanisms designed to read transmissions were developed after the Great War.

Now its purpose has become obsolete as the squad's silent hideaway had been discovered by Brute reconnaissance and Blood packs were now firing upon the troops that had taken the time to create the camouflaged settlement so much like that of a child's first pillow fort.

Gary had been locked in a hiding spot in the front of the makeshift bunker for around 10 minutes and he had been able to make 4 confirmed kills only from suppressing the enemy 200 meters away hiding behind the thick trunks of the Aragonian genetically-shifted tropical redwood, a tree originally native to Earth on the west coast of the North American continent, the ancestral home of Gary Hartmann's family gene pool dating back to the 22nd century.

The trees here have become a florescent blue-green hue for the leaves due to a radiated iron compound found in the soil of the planet. There was a count of 20 Brute Foot Mobiles dressed in a strange helmet that looked like a devil Cyclops.

A common comparison seen since most Brutes: after the Separatist-Loyalist War, the Brutes commonly wore the night-vision enhanced Stalker helmet. It was menacing and could put fear into the enemies' hearts especially at night when your surroundings are likely to be turned against you.

Feeding another magazine into his MA9B ECP, he pulled back the ambidextrous bolt hammer and locked the magazine securely and began to rise slightly over the head of the cooked pile of sand and carbon-fiber clothe.

To his left, Gary saw two "Bravo Kilos" behind a rock and an infant redwood tree. Turning on VISR and looking in the Brutes direction with the rifle and his helmet allowing his target assistance program to lead him toward the highlighted interstellar apes that had now so helpfully got out of cover and draw their weapons only to be torn down by the accurate, choppy fire of the "_Misriah Arms Nine Bravo Enhanced Combat Platform_."

Quickly lowering himself back into cover as two horrid screeches of the aliens reached his ear drum, the hiss of 2 blood-red hued Plasma Rifles splattered the sand bags and air with hot, white plasma rounds that blackened everything they touched.

Getting back up and targeting the other 4 Brutes behind a log, he chucked a Flashbang over his head toward the Brutes that had decided to start opening fire and suppress his position with no avail.

The shock-inducing grenade did not have the same affect on the eyes or ears of Brutes as they did to the Human body, instead of causing temporary blindness and an irritating ringing sound, it caused the enemies hearing and radio sensors think that their opponent was elsewhere, a design flaw in enemies scanners relying on sound instead of motion like that found in Elite and Human sensors.

The grenade went off within a half-second of being thrown as the auto dampeners of Gary's helmet filtered out the sound and light. The Brutes began firing randomly off in all directions as he lined up his first shot toward the chest of one primate that had been standing up and he pulled the trigger.

The rounds impacted the enemy's chest and after 4 bullets impacted his abdomen before a fifth ripped through his head and tore his brains out the other side and he crumpled to the ground.

Coming up on his left clad in a familiar Army Ranger BDU and armed with a "_Misriah Arms Seven Three Nine Squad Automatic Weapon_," Master Sergeant Quinn Silva moved up from behind the safety of a turret mount and started to use light machine gun rounds to tear apart the log and the now recovering Brutes behind it to only be killed seconds after their buddy had been torn to shreds.

"Hartmann, good work, cover my left now!" he called as 2 more Brutes came charging out of the underbrush, one armed with a Spike Rifle, and another practically flying with a Gravity Hammer hanging from his back and a Mauler in hand.

Gary's VISR computer immediately highlighted them as he brought up his weapon and for once aimed down the ACOG sight that was optionally attached to the magnetic/ gripping rail that steadied the weapon sights to near perfection.

The first rounds tore through the air born Chieftain like rocks through water as the body went limp and the Mauler spit out 3 rounds off in random directions in a near-death spasm, the distinct click of _empty_ pulsed Gary's eardrums and his weapon's bullet counter showed '00'.

A scream rushed Gary's ear as the sound of a human voice was drowned out as the charging menace reached 25 feet and began to close fast, dazed and surprised by the scream, Gary reacted on instinct to draw his pistol and abandon his rifle to kneel and put bullet rounds down range the "_Brooklet Forty-Six Charlie S.O.C.O.M pistol_" whistled twice as two pistol rounds left the barrel and the only echo of shells bouncing in the underbrush as two rounds rammed their way into the bull-like alien's neck yet the rounds failed to put the creature down.

Another whistle, the Brute continued to charge until it was almost on top of Gary.

Suddenly Quinn rushed the primate from the side with his MA739 SAW/LMG knocking himself and the alien to the ground.

Landing on his feet Quinn, drawn his own B46C/SOCOM and took one look down the sights and put a bullet in-between the eyes as the monster attempted to stagger back up only to finally go down. It lay there dead for the last time.

As the adrenaline rush left the veins of Gary's body, he could finally hear the calls of Major Forest Smith as he shivered in pain on a thin branch that had toppled due to plasma burns and Private First Class Duncan Cooper desperately trying to keep him conscious.

"Sir, Smith has been hit; we need a medic ASAP." called Cooper from a few yards away."

"Reinforcements are two minutes away, what happened?" called Quinn as he and Gary jogged over.

"Got hit by a stray Mauler round while you guys engaged those 2 Bravo Kilos, Forest and I were held off about15 grunts, a Brute major and a Hunter pair; chased them off and killed the Brutes, 5 grunts, and both Hunters before they retreated. We got lucky, until he was shot by that Chieftain." Copper said hastily.

He was oozing blood and the wound had a large pointed spearhead lodged between Forest's left shoulder blade and his an upper rib that was slowly bleeding out a sickly red color and the area around the puncture had already begun to turn brown and black.

"Sir, we have to pull the round out now or he is going to require amputation of his arm all the way up. If we were to regrow it, he would be armless for another 6 months just to replace all the bones and -remove the shrapnel," Said Cooper. "I've had enough medics' training to understand the wound's problem yet I'm not certified, I don't have the equipment for this kind of job."

"Fine, Gary pull it out, Duncan find any cloth to put pressure on the wound. Forest, this is going to hurt… a lot." Quinn said taking charge of his fireteam.

Grabbing a utility blanket, Duncan prepared for a mess, reaching for the root of the round where fingerless gloves, Gary reached for the lead spike and yanked hard sending it flying into a tree where it remained imbedded 5 inches deep. The cloth went on and Duncan held down the blood as it began to soak the rag red with blood and as he pulled out an emergency bio-foam canister and injected it near the lung, where the round had nearly punctured but only scrapped.

Quinn ran over to the radio and began to reconnect to command as Gary began looking around for enemy stragglers along the perimeter.

"Fireteam Valor to Overlord Actual, objective complete, we have wounded and need reinforcements ASAP!" he called into the microphone over squad command.

Overlord Actual was a colonel working from Forward Operations Base "Bullhound," another 6 football fields from their position.

"Copy Valor-1, we read you loud and clear, reinforcements are 30 seconds from your position, over. Standby for new tasking…" said Overlord Actual.

"This is Overlord Actual, you're being rerouted to the frontlines; Force Recon was able to successfully detonate the EMP knocking out enemy shields across the theatre yet they were ambushed before they could reach Objective: Fox Hole. Most of enemy electronics are down, we need your team ready to move out, that Forerunner Base is of top priority."

"Copy that Overlord, ETA for destination?" asked Quinn.

"A Pelican will be picking you up in 5 minutes at base to move you up to the objective, the Brutes are giving the Marines a hell of a time; we need you to fly the east bank of the Guadiana River, we lost contact with our tank column in the West Region, so original plan is a No-Go. Good luck, Overlord out."

Finally after another 15 seconds, two platoons of marines stepped into the jungle clearing. 3 medics rushed over to Cooper and Forest and began to take care of his wounds.

"You guys are lucky; your friend could have got _Lead Heart_ if you hadn't pulled that round out of his shoulder." A medic stated as he injected the man with a dose of medical nanaties masked in bio-foam.

Watching Forest slowly fell into unconsciousness, the team finally left their friend to be tended by the field doctors to be moved later to a hospital room aboard one of the ships in orbit.

The group packed up their stuff, Gary started to recheck his already secure bag, a small backpack with a mess kit, emergency rations, nutrients pills, hygiene kit, a box of standard bio-foam canisters, an extra 8 magazines, a blanket, customization kit for weapons and armor, a inflatable raft/sleeping bag, extra flares, a metallic container with old carbon-fiber printed photographs of family and friends, and an Elite good luck charm given to him by an Elite at the Great War Monument in Kenya, Africa, at Earth.

He also had his field computer a tablet-like device with standard-like keyboard that have been used since the 1800s by ancestral humans and their primitive typewriters.

Checking his combat vest and its extreme number of pockets to make sure grenades, his pistol, magazines, his dog tags, and his water canteens, etc, he deemed himself prepared to leave as he grabbed Quinn's attention and started moving toward the trees with a scrambling Cooper still attempting to grab a ration bar from his bag and a water bottle in his mouth as he ran after the pair trying to keep up.

They walked for about 15 minutes through the dense temperate underbrush as rain sparsely fell down around them from the heights above.

Suddenly they came across another clearing, this one nearly 10 times as big as the one where they had skirmished against the Loyalist forces.

The region was a half-kilometer across with temporary buildings, multiple tent structures, and troops, both male and female moving around like they had a purpose.

Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, Army Special Operation "_Rangers_," Marine contingents, Army forces, Airborne, Armor Crews, all sorts of people from every ethnicity of every background of every ancestry all fighting in the name of their ancestral home, Earth. This was _F.O.B Bullhound_.

There were weapon depots everywhere arming up artillery canisters to modifying AC-81s, MA9B ECPs, and MA5D ICWS, and all sorts of other weaponry.

There was a motor pool with armor crews and convoy groups preparing for the lightning-fast attack that was to become the "Battle of Aragon;" M808 "_Scorpion_" Tanks, M12 "_Warthog_" Jeeps, M850 "_Grizzly_" Tanks, M26 "_Puma_" S. , a few M312 _"Elephant_" Troop Transports, and a single M510 "_Mammoth_" Mobile Command Center.

The task force that was on standby at _F.O.B BullHound_ was itching for action as the combined forces of here and _F.O.B God Mod_, prepared for the first phase of the plan.

_Operation: Mongol Charge_.

An attack like this had not been attempted on such a size of scale since the Interplanetary and Rainforest Wars, the Covenant originally weren't fazed by such attacks due to their sheer numbers and advanced technology. Now with the Covenant Loyalist led by the Brutes who aren't known for great tactical brilliance would most likely be crushed by the lightning quick blitzkrieg assault of U.N.S.C forces under the support of a single frigate, the _U.N.S.C Siege of Madrigal_.

Walking over to a single weapon depot, Gary grabbed 4 extra magazines and refilled up on Semtex grenades, Fragmentation Grenades, Flashbangs, and C-7 Foaming Explosives.

Running toward one of the "Pelican" Gunships where Quinn and a pilot seemed to be talking about flight plans.

Walking over to the Gunship with twin-thruster engines, quad-set of vertical tilting wings, two separate piloting compartments, and a cargo bay filled up with only Private Duncan putting up his equipment in one of the overhead weapon lockers.

"Oscar 19, is ready for takeoff Master Sergeant, we're just waiting for my co-pilot to arrive and will be on our way." the pilot said to Quinn.

"Get us in the air, we need to go… right about…now." Quinn said as the sound of the war horn began to ring through the camp, soldiers who were busy moving objects or preparing vehicles or just laying back or resting began to jump into action rushing to their assigned vehicles.

Getting upon the raised bird, the team strapped themselves in as Staff Sergeant Joseph Bartok, the pilot and crew chief began to turn on the Pelican's power and engines, a man appearing as Airman First Class Harley Brunswick rushed into the cargo bay following Bartok and jumped into the gunner seat above.

Compressing his suits air filter, Gary prepared himself for a quick change in air pressure as the Pelican with a single, loud jolt lifted off the ground and began to fly into the low atmosphere around 4000 feet over the battlefield giving the squad a good view of the battlefield from above.

The cabin was suddenly filled with Italian opera music as the sound of almost -wailing men and a harmony of violins filled the cabin that even made the wind and battlefield below seem quiet.

Attempting to ignore the music, Gary looked over the edge with Duncan copying his actions in his peripheral vision as their gunship flew and continued to remain at a somewhat low altitude, the group could make out the small figures of U.N.S.C marines running from under the low brush and secure cover that was the forest as they rushed the stupidly placed Covenant outposts in the middle of a _freaking _savannah! The goal was to keep the area as clean as possible; the use of carpet bombs and MAC volleys had been authorized to keep the colony clean from devastation for future recolonization.

Following the marines were all the vehicles seen from earlier along with the ones from the other Forward Operation Base about two clicks from _Bullhound._

The forces began to push slowly forward toward the enemy encampments without much of an official defense except Jackal towers, barricades, and a few AA guns lying on some low hills that were at the moment keeping the _Siege of Madrigal_ at bay. Air support was nowhere to be seen as the plasma bolts traced near the U.N.S.C frigate.

Grizzly and Scorpion Tanks supported Warthogs and the Marine ground forces as they moved forward firing and using rocks and trees that sparsely dotted the battlefield as cover. Jackals were sent flying as their canopies were sent flying from tank rounds and _Gauss Cannon_-armed Warthogs charged _Wraith_ tanks at full speed and circling and outmaneuvering all enemy tanks and artillery on the ground. _Banshees_ were unable to take off in fear of being shot down due to the loss of all ground support. Even the shielding used by the Covenant Loyalists that protected from orbital bombardment had been taken out leaving them at a serious disadvantage.

Enemy forces were being destroyed by the second and the enemy had already lost 4 of the 6 Anti-Air towers from accurate, suppression by U.N.S.C armor. Pumas were flanking enemy forces fast and hitting with quick precision supported by their smaller and less proficient Machine Gun Warthogs as they forced the enemy to pull back and form a somewhat narrow line that trapped the enemy on 3 sides.

The battle was beginning to decide a victor when the loud ominous screeching of whirling motors began to fill the air and grinding metal plates sliding against each other echoed through the savannah-like flatland. Rising out of the trees on the opposing side of the U.N.S.C taskforce, a group of purple and bluish-silver armor plating began to rise out of the dense blue-green trees that greatly masked their presence.

Covenant "_Scarab_" Assault Platforms; 4 in total began to move from the edge of the forest they stood at facing down the U.N.S.C war machine.

As they moved in toward the enemy forces, the alien collective began to regain their composure as the Brutes began to get even more arrogant and blood thirsty to the point they just turned around to the incoming, somewhat accurate fire of Marine infantry and Army support-artillery and simply charge into a suicidal bloodbath, yet the arrival of so many enemy Scarabs left the U.N.S.C forces at a disadvantage as the human vehicles became more focused on delaying the Scarabs then taking out ground forces as Brute Choppers and Revenants began to turn and fire back at the assaulting army.

Suddenly, the Scarabs' plasma cannons began to glow a hazy green as heavy radioactive plasma was lashed upon the U.N.S.C 3rd Blitz column, completely decimating half of the human artillery in one fast swoop and leaving the marine infantry cowering in fear to the monstrous behemoths that were the Covenant Assault Platforms, the U.N.S.C taskforce; all vehicles and troops began to mount a full retreat back into the woods to attempt to get undercover where the Scarabs would be forced to halt in fear that they would hit their own troops while trying to kill off the human taskforce.

They never escaped the gory deathtrap, the smell of rotten flesh and burned metal could be smelled as high up as Oscar 19 flew in the air.

Avoiding the horrid sight the group looked away from the battle which was likely to give them nightmares for the next couple of weeks.

The Italian classical opera music continued to play through the speakers until a little turbulence shook the gunship and out the compartment, the trees began to seem to be flying up toward the Pelican.

The landing gears began to open up underneath the vehicle and the music abruptly stopped.

"We're now landing, please keep your restraints on, we are experiencing some-40 mile winds at 1,300 feet, we will be groundside in 15 seconds.

The Pelican continued to descend at a slow rate until finally halting in a clearing next to a high cliff, at least 50 feet up.

With a final thud the vehicle came to a halt as the engines began to cool down and Oscar 19 went silent.

A green light winked above them in the compartment and Duncan, Gary, and Quinn released the restraints on their seats and rushed out the ajar compartment door and look out and around for any possible Covenant forces. It seemed all clear, until they noticed 2 grunts hiding behind rocks.

Their shadows hidden in the darkness of the overhang of the cliff and the only thing giving them away was their snickering-like shivers in fear as they crawled and kind of rolled around in the shadows.

Turning on his VISR, he immediately marked the squirming enemies in red outlines and used his heat target beam, an invisible laser only detectable by VISR that allows weapons to be fired without looking down the sights.

He switched to semi-auto on his MA9B ECP and popped off 4 shots. Barely missing one, hit one through the foot followed by a head shot and one impacted the other's breather apparatus suffocating the grunt to death.

Following them out and into the clearing, Joseph and Harley grabbed M6H heavy pistols from their shoulder straps.

"Here take this, Sergeant." Said Duncan as he tossed 2 MA5D ICWSs from an weapon rack on the outside of the Pelican gunship to the 2 pilots who in a instant rushed over and also grabbed ammunition packs just in case if more aliens showed up.

Seeing a silver glint in the darkness, the group walked up to the now obvious Forerunner door in the side of the hill, a metal door of unknown alloy components and had a slight blue tinge to it that gave it a ghostly appearance. A blackish blue orb/consol stood to the side.

Curiously putting his hand down upon the orb; Quinn immediately jumped back when the sounds of moving mechanics suddenly made the door simply teleport out of existence.

"Wow." Airman Harley said as the group entered the corridor behind the ajar opening.

In the distance a low almost comical echo could be heard from the skies, a high pitched screech; the standard sound given off by atmospheric frigates when about to hit ground targets with MAC cannon volleys.

Following the screech, a single loud, snapping crackle was heard and following that a earthquake-like rumble was felt forcing the group to rush into the cover of the Forerunner structure with Gary looking out the door way as the overhanging began to sink slightly and the scene of the Pelican being blown away like a trash bag in the wind and the dust cloud washing away the trees followed with a rock slide covering the overhang trapping the group inside.

"Come in Valor… *cough-cough*, report; this is Overlord Actual…" a hoarse voice popped on the team feed.

"We read you loud and clear, Overlord." Quinn replied.

"Those Scarabs were most probably the reason we lost the 4th Scout Tank Column. Take the objective, with our main forces on the run; we can no longer fight an even battle. *cough*cough*"

"The frigate _U.N.S.C Siege of Madrigal_ had been authorized to destroy the enemy with an in-atmospheric MAC volley. Sorry about the late warning, we're sending reinforcements in half-an-hour. Take care of yourselves. *cough*cough*"

"Sir, be advised; your going have to dig a hole to us; the main passage has been blocked off by rocks from the MAC volley's shockwave." Quinn replied.

"Acknowledged, Overlord out." Overlord said.

Entering the facility, the group found a pointless hallway with illuminating lights along the walls in one direction.

Duncan stared off toward the end, "These Forerunners really loved their pointless architecture."

Heading down the hall, the group entered a wide warehouse-sized room at least 100 meters across. All throughout the room were panels, desks, computers, and shelves that were silver in nature and had that sci-fi feel to it as the place glowed artificially with bright blue and white lights and countless lens-flare generators; everything you would need to create a scene reminiscent from the old 21st century show, Star Trek.

Walking toward one of the screens assumed to be an equivalent to a laptop. The screen flashed and danced with transforming characters and symbols most likely the Forerunner glyph system. Sitting down upon a metal block in front of the desk, Gary put his hand upon the screen which quickly flashed green and flipped to a similar desktop to that of _Nanotech 11_, a popular software managing system operated by the O.N.I and other electronic depended organizations.

"Hey Hartmann, click that icon, its Latin…" Duncan said as he stared at a box with Roman numerals and letters transforming before his very eyes.

Pressing the button, Gary, heard a soft female voice speak in a monotone tone. "Reclaimer detected, bio scanning… scanning complete; welcome Reclaimer…" as the screen went black and a green laser horizontally scanned the group staring at the screen.

"What the heck…" Silva said.

Suddenly a video began to play across the screen.

A weary-eyed woman with pale skin, no nose except slits, and weary eyes appeared across the screen in a room similar to the one they stood in. She wore a metallic-looking wig, almost reminiscent to human female hair, yet it also resembled a Pope's crown or a large turban; she was Forerunner.

"Years from now, light years away, your people are watching this message. Either it be in awe or in all understanding, prepare yourselves. The knowledge you will soon learn may lead to a great tremor in the stability of the galaxy." The alien said.

"_Humanity_, Earth… and the galaxy; your past, your future: everything the _Mantle_ represents in this galaxy will end like it has since the universe's beginning. The _Cycle_ is coming to a bitter end like so many before. It will end with the next drifting of _Andromeda_ across the plane of space. You must be prepared for its coming."

"Your species was once on par with the _Forerunners_, a great empire with violent tendencies. When the Flood came to our shores; you attacked us in hopes of ensuring your survival yet you only enraged all and we obliterated your kind until your ancestors were stranded on your homeworld left to die out for the _Flood_ to take."

"There is more than one Earth; your brethren await your reunion though they do not know of it; they have been misguided, tampered with. They have fallen into a trap older than even the _Precursors_ who once ruled the galaxy eons ago. They are at risk of _Legion_; _Hivemind_; _Harvester_; _Endgame_; _Bakunawa_; _Nazara_."

"The Reclamation must proceed ahead of schedule, I speak to your kind bearing the threat of Nazara; _we exist because they allow it, and we will end because they demand it_. I am _Chant to Green_; I am the last Lifeshaper and a bastion to your survival, go haste with new knowledge and spread my warning. The truth must come out."

"The end is in fact near." The female alien stated before the video faded to black.

The group of militants stood still and continues to stare at the screen for a few more seconds until Duncan broke the silence, "You guys all recorded that, right?"

He was replied with an almost harmonized "Yes."

Suddenly out of a chute in the ceiling, a hovering robot floated down toward them, a Sentinel.

"CONTACT!" yelled Quinn as the group instinctively raised their weapons at the suspicious caretaker and took cover around the shelves and desk.

Not even noticing them, the machine floated off to a glowing shelf and began to calibrate something with its laser.

"Okay, false contact…" Quinn stated awkwardly.

Quinn made a spread out motion with his hand leading to the immediate response of the group scouring the room for more details and info.

Duncan and Gary walked toward one wall with a group of shelves that seemed to be the Forerunner equivalent to a modern book shelf full of books, the reason: the shelf was flashing bright white colors like distortion in water.

Duncan touched one part of the shelf which quickly flashed a low blue and the shelf went dark as a table somehow slid out the side of the wall and revealed a container with a small artifact glowing with Forerunner glyphs. It was the size of a river stone maybe 4 inches across and shaped like a trapezoid, next to it was a belt on it were the leather of unknown origin had marks of Forerunner symbols until a voice behind them spoke: "They're coordinates!"

Whipping around to face Joseph Bartok standing behind them trying to get a good look, "How do you know?" asked Gary.

"I worked with some of the eggheads down at the ONI R&D division, when I had been visiting my x-girlfriend, before we broke up over… never mind. Anyway, she had showed me several symbols that they had discovered, said they were the Forerunner-specific coordinate system for galaxy mapping." said Joseph getting an awkward look from the other soldiers.

"What can't imagine me ever having a girlfriend?"

"Umhmm…no, you just seem a bit odd to have had a girlfriend from ONI."

"Whatever." Joseph stated.

Grabbing the objects from their pedestals in the container, Draco shoved them into a containment bag and put them in his armor hard case on his thigh.

The group began to rendezvous at the center of the warehouse-like structure when above them; the metal was beginning to turn hot red and was starting to metal away from the 3 meter thick layer of reinforced armor.

After 2 minutes of burning a vicious whirring sound could be heard. Finally the ceiling gave away, and the metal came crashing down narrowly missing Harley who was staring at the spot transfixed.

Shimming down a rope, 2 marines entered the room.

One was male who held a stolen Covenant Carbine with a Savannah-styled finish with light brown, green, and mellow highlights across the paint job. He wore sunglasses, a large amount of mud and grass cover him, had a light-bending camouflage cloak, designating him as a possible Sniper.

The other was a female who held an MA5D ICWS; she had a marine helmet, a standard oxygen tank with backpack, and suit-tight armor similar to ODSTs yet at the same time, was actually made for zero-g and boarding operations.

"Thanks for the rescue." said Quinn looking relieved.

"The battle isn't over yet, we'll have to fight our way to the extraction point!" said the female marine, Specialist Katrina Fennels.

"What about the room, we haven't finished gathering Intel." asked Duncan seemingly unsure through the mask he often wore.

"In the words of Captain Guzhang_: All troops are to return back to the Seventh Column, effective immediately. The eggheads can dig up the entire planet for all I care, but, the lives of my men are worth 10 times any old relic could ever be worth._" recited the male marine, Major Henry Foxx.

"Didn't the _Siege of Madrigal _take them out?" asked Harley.

"It did until another Loyalist Cruiser pulled in-system several minutes ago and dropped drop pods all over the battlefield, we were sent to pull you out."

"Ok, let's move then." Quinn finished.

Climbing up the rope one by one, the tunnel went down nearly 40 feet and was extremely narrow. Above the smell of gasoline, rotten flesh, and ozone entered the filters of the soldiers' armor only to be too strong and bypassed the filter making the group gag at the smell of rotting fish.

"You'll get used to it, just get to the vehicles." Said the female marine.

Pulled up on to the surface of the region again, the stale air from within the structure quickly left Gary as the team moved to the more than evident two transport warthogs waiting for the team with each caring 4 and 2 troops respectively.

As the group got on the jeeps, Gary asked the female soldier a question, "Got a name, trooper?"

"S.P.C Katrina Fennels, Fireteam Sierra, of the U.N.S.C 2nd Armored Division at your service." She stated almost rehearsed.

"Thanks for the lift, Sierra…"

"You're welcome."

The vehicles began to move as the small convoy drove past a burned clump of trees.

The burnt smell of rotten fish began to increase as they neared the main impact zone where through the dust, the outlines of enemies and allies could be made out as the sun barely flared through the clouds giving an eerie glow to the dust that surrounded the area.

A jackal rushed the pair of transports attempting to jump on top of the first, the one that Katrina, Harley, and Gary had chosen to ride.

Leveling the MA739 SAW that was welded on to the top of the transport, Katrina released a torrent of ammunition upon the poor bird/reptilian alien who's body got bisected after falling in the path and run over by both Warthogs.

The SAW had been attached to many transport Warthogs as a forward assault weapon to protect the occupants, not having even half the fire power or the versatility of a standard chain gun swivel turret on a standard Warthog, it got the job done.

"Looks like they're putting up quite a final fight." Gary stated.

"Aye, the Brutes have made it quite the-" Suddenly a Beam Rifle round crashed through the Specialist's head and she went slack instantly.

"Soldier down!" Gary yelled as another sniper round almost hit his abdomen; he got down low and watched Harley reach under his seat for a blanket.

Picked up the now dead body with delicate hands and grabbed the large towel, he rapped the upper body and head stump into the towel and covered it hiding most of the marine's body.

He placed the body down on a seat and noticed Harley's face as he remained shell-shocked as the blood fell from the head like a waterfall completely soaking the towel in deep red.

Turning around at the sound of a high-pitched scream, the woman and her co-pilot were dealing with a Brute on the wind shield as it tried to smash the reinforced glass.

Turing around he pointed his assault rifle at a Brute that had just now attempted to jump on the wind shield and knock out the driver. Pulling the trigger and quickly putting both hands on it. He sprayed his weapon until the bastard dropped to the ground lifeless.

Looking back at the body of the woman that had just died, he let himself show a little emotion with a small frown yet no tears came, he had saw too many comrades fall in battle, this event was no different. He barely knew her yet like all those who died before him, he added it to mentally long list of people who had died in front of him through the 22 years in the U.N.S.C military.

He remembered his family, his parents, uncle, 2 brothers, and a young sister all died in the glassing of the Outer Colony of Everest in lost many unnamed and unimportant soldiers that had either saved his life or had been under his command. The only thing he had left was the U.N.S.C, and like most all soldiers after the Human-Covenant War, would put their life down for it and Humanity's survival.

Looking around and being observant, he saw the battle rage as it was.

A male marine hugging a dead marine, a woman, behind a tree as his comrades returned fire toward a Brute Chieftain who was preparing to tear down a sand bag between him and a ODST with a shotgun.

A pair of ODSTs gunned against a Wraith tank using a stolen Revenant that had a mat-black coloring to it and the Wraith with a Carbon-gray camouflage.

Two medics trying to revive an seemingly unconscious marine.

A Falcon's shadow pacing overhead with the beats of gunfire upon squawking enemies below tearing away at armor and flesh was a overwhelming nightmare.

A camouflaged marine sniper exploding from being unaware of a suicide grunt behind him, he never had a chance.

This was the beat of war.

Finally reaching the rendezvous point, the team jumped out of the jeeps and rushed for the Pelican Gunship that they could now make out through the dust. Gary remained to grab the body of Sierra off the seat.

All around them though, bullets and plasma rounds flashed in all directions as Grunts' and Jackals' shadowy forms clashed with the U.N.S.C servicemen defending the perimeter of dead trees, sand bags, and crates waiting for any last survivors pulling back from engagements, what was left of _F.O.B Bullhound_.

Behind that Pelican two others were doing the same as the first, waiting to evacuate soldiers.

A fourth could be seen behind those two just barely until it went up in a fiery explosion.

"This is Rascal, Fireteam Valor, prepare for dust off." Rascal, the pilot of Lima Bravo 4, spoke into the comlink.

Duncan and Harley quickly jumped aboard the Pelican yet Gary, Quinn, and Harley stayed to help cover other troops getting on as they slowly pulled back until only the drivers and troops that had manned the warthogs and the stolen Revenant had arrived hastily.

Firing his MA9B ECP, Gary felt himself rely on instinct in battle heat; he fired off rounds at the shadows of aliens around the drop ship until all the troops were on except the gun-ho ODST from the Revenant and Gary himself as Quinn now went to the cockpit to get a secure link to Command. Harley was on and so were the others except a few late-showing medics and wounded that were lifted into the hold.

"Thanks son for the support." A Medic said as he climbed aboard firing a M6H into the dust at a limping grunt.

Firing several more bursts the two helped lift several body bags of the dead including Specialist Fennels into the transport, finally everyone was packed and loaded, Gary got on silently followed by the now cursing ODST who had took a plasma bolt to the side that was being treated by a tired-looking male medic.

"Dusting off to destroyer _U.N.S.C Seventh Column_; Panther Squadron, Lightning Strike has been authorized, good work." Silva spoke hoarsely into the microphone.

At the point that they were 3000 feet up and climbing, Gary let himself get a quick glance out the open cargo bay.

He could see fire and smoke now as the once lush jungle and plains was turned brown and black from the explosive MAC strike, it wasn't the first time he saw such a scenario, though he sure hoped this one would be his last.

The bay door closed as the transport entered high atmosphere and into the vacuum of space, and then all went dark.

The lock light shined a dull red and the Lifeshaper's words echoed through Roadkill's mind: "The _Cycle_ is coming to a bitter end like so many before."

"_We exist because they allow it, and we will end because they demand it."_

He did not understand the meaning yet he felt that whatever was happening, it would happen soon and it will change the galaxy forever.

He shivered in anticipation; he couldn't help but feel a grander agenda was in fact in play.

(-)

***U.N.S.C ARCHIVES* - A.I. ACCESS: CTN 0187-6 "WASHINGTON"**

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	2. Chapter 2 - Shore Leave

**Sorry for the 2 month delay, if not longer. I am finally back and I hope I can't get this opportunity into full swing. In Chapter 2, instead of forcing our way into the inevitable clash of UNSC and Citadel Forces, I decided to take it slow with an UNSC Introduction Arc (Not Offical) that develops the main characters and the background that these characters are coming from within the Orion Arm of the Milky Way.**

**Welcome to a standard day aboard a post-war UNSC destroyer, half the depth of a Halcyon class cruiser like the Pillar of Autumn while being close to the same length if not longer. Enter the Seventh Column. Here is Chapter 2.**

******A.N.: It has come to my attention based on a review from a guest by the name "arrow monger," who enlightened me on several plot mistakes I made in this chapter so I have corrected them to better fit the story, thanks for the save, bro.**

******Explanation for Mistakes (if anyone curious): (1) the U.N.S.C Infinity probably doesn't have enough fire power to survive 2 Covenant Supercarriers unscatched, so I have said that it would probably be able to take on a single supercarrier yet not defeat it unless taking extreme damage probably leaving it "dead in the water." (2) My data about human info from _Halo Nation_ was outdated, I was basing my info from about a year ago before someone editted the page and included gender differences (originally it said 5'5") and now says 6' for men and 5'6" for women. Thanks guys, sorry :) _Arrow Monger - You're Fine!_**

******_A.N.2: ... Spartan G257, thank you for correcting me, I have corrected the length of the Infinity, but please - calling me an idiot for such a small mistake is a bit unnessary since it barely affects the plot unless you care most about my nearness to canon and the background facts that could be flung out the window if I were actually lazy enough to ignore mistakes. Good news, I actually care about my canon and so I have corrected it, thanks also about saying its pretty good, that means a lot._**

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"_**For us, the storm has passed. The war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark and did not return. For their decision required courage beyond measure…sacrifice, and unshakable conviction that their fight; our fight, was elsewhere. As we start to rebuild, this hillside will remain barren, a memorial to heroes fallen. They enabled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten."**_

_Lord Terrence Hood (Fleet Admiral- 2542), Memorial Speech at Kenya, Africa, March 2553_

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**["SHORE LEAVE"]**

**[SEPTEMBER 2555]**

**[SGT. GARY HARTMANN]**

**[ONBOARD U.N.S.C '**_**SUN TZU – CLASS'**_** DESTROYER: ****SEVENTH COLUMN****, ENROUTE TO LUNA (*POST COLE PROTOCOL*)]**

Leaning against the gray metal wall of the medical bay looking out a plasmatic window, Gary watched as the fast blurs of distance stars light years away zoom by in the whitish-grey oblivion that was Slipspace.

The _U.N.S.C Seventh Column_, a post war _Sun Tzu_ class Destroyer was Fireteam Valor's current operations station along with its 200-300 Navy personnel including Navy soldiers, 200 marine ship detachment, 50 ODSTs, and 600 army soldiers of multiple stages.

The ship was a length of 1,210 meters, longer than the Marathon and Halcyon cruisers by a short hundred meters, and a short depth of 236 meters, and width of 287 meters. The ship was twice as large as its wartime cousins yet filled in a role similar to that of a history where the "Wet Navy" quieted the use of battleships, light, and heavy cruisers and the Destroyer ended up filling these roles with mission packages, the Destroyers of the post-war U.N.S.C carried vehicles in conjunction to the necessity of all ships being multi-role vessels. The destroyers were no exception.

With the fist of extinction almost crushing humanity in the last few years, the goal of survival and prevention forced humans to increase the size and effective deadliness of their ships to match the possible threats from within and beyond the galaxy. The Forerunners could somehow survive, the Flood could return, or the Covenant may rise again, or another enemy would appear from the depth of space to try their best to extinguish the flame that was Humanity.

The _U.N.S.C Seventh Column_ was heading for Luna, Earth's moon where a month of off-ship shore leave had been promised when the ship would be going through a change of mission equipment including an entire replacement of its bow regional armor from Titanium-A to Titanium A3, the new standard for all U.N.S.C ships especially with the research included with the completion of the _U.N.S.C Infinity_, the U.N.S.C largest and deadliest starship at 3.5 miles in length and enough weaponry to take on a Covenant Supercarrier, it was humanity's secret weapon.

With its reveal, a new standard of weapons were required for the U.N.S.C navy, this was why the requirement for an entire month to refit the destroyer, was in progress. Gary was going to use this time to his fullest. Yet first he was going to have to visit the Medical bay, Forest had finished surgery.

Gary pulled his eyes away from the uncomfortably intriguing light spectrum out the window and made his head feel quezzy. Looking behind him as the Operating Light went out above the E.R, a female medical officer in a gray surgeon uniform stepped into the hallway and announced to the anxious fireteam, "Major Forest Smith has completed the surgery, the surgeon has pulled him out of the medically induced coma, and you may see him now."

"Just don't make too much noise, we still have him on a high-dose of penicillin, he may get too excited and hurt himself in his state." She added as an afterthought.

Getting up from their seats as the benches electronically slid back into the walls, the Fireteam entered the now dimly lit room where artificial gravity was beginning to return to the room yet still for several seconds, Gary had the feeling of barfing in his mouth from the split-second change in gravity from 0 to 1 Gs.

Smith lay in a white hospital gown under a pile of heat blankets upon a white bed and several were coming out of his arm.

"How you feeling, Forest?" asked Cooper almost instantaneously as they saw him.

"I feel like I'm in blood heaven, man!" was Smith's rather gurgled remark.

"It's the penicillin…" said Duncan picking up a spare scalp and twirled it between his fingers.

"I know."

"So… how was the operation?" Gary asked.

"I don't know… I feel like I'm in total bliss yet I can see you guys… though you do seem swimmy. Those doctors put me under, though they said I had lost nearly 2 pints of blood, nearly enough that I should be in a coma…"

You're good then?" Cooper asked.

"Aye, I'm great, they said I should be combat ready again by tomorrow, they're growing me cloned blood cells in the lab as we speak." He said.

"Man, I love this medication; maybe I should shove a Spiker round in my shoulder more often!" Smith said to no one in particular.

He looked overly pale, Smith was of Arab and Spanish decent yet his parents traced their heritage back to the _United States of America_ which gave him his name, _Forest Weskit Smith_, to meet English norms during the 21st and 22nd centuries. Though to tell the truth, he looked even more pale than normal.

Fireteam Valor for a matter of a fact had all grown up as immigrants from North American colonies: Silva, Smith, Cooper came from _Harvest_, _Apache_, and_ Everest_ respectively; though Gary himself, like Cooper, was also from Everest.

Suddenly out of the Surgeon entrance, one of the doctors returned and said they needed to leave; the best treatment for Forest now was a good sleep.

Walking out of the med bay in an orderly fashion, the rest of Fireteam Valor turned left and started walking down the hallway together in the direction of the Mess Hall.

Following the long sparsely-lit hallways walking by other army personnel and marine security teams, people rushing to where ever they were needed.

"Afternoon, sir." A marine called to Quinn as a formality to a superior officer as the man ran off to follow the rest of his detachment.

"Likewise!" called Quinn down the hallway as he continued to walk.

Now walking in a sort of clump, Gary, Quinn, and Duncan found themselves crossing over the great ravine that was one of the two gyms centered in the center of the destroyer vessel. They walked over a observation deck/hallway yet slowed to take in the sight of a Marine-ODST live-fire exercise occur below on a plain metal field, the large field was separated from the gym through a transparent plasma window, not including the window's separation, the gym was about 2 or 3 football fields long and about 1 across.

Below you could make out the men and women that made up the backbone of the U.N.S.C military working out and struggling under the pressure of 3 Gs. The only reason why most people can take this type of pressure is due to the limited genetic engineering that has been taking place since the 22nd century; human adaptability and body strength had been increased through genetic research allowing for people to reach the age of 150 on average though not factoring in the death toll of the war, human physical strength has increased by 125%, and the changes in environment and gravity when jumping between varying planets and space, the necessity for preparation in human adapting to new locations has been minimized to near nothing.

The downside of genetic modification is the tampering of human evolution, adaptations can only be decided by human decision now and nature no longer had a grasp; the severity of allergies has also doubled due to this, as long as medical technology continued to advance, the allergens shouldn't cause much problems.

Finally reaching the other end of the observation hall, Gary took his eyes off a muscular woman wearing a camo-designed sports bra with black shorts, she had broad shoulders and according to Gary's contact lens, she was currently benching about 130 lbs. , her average probably would be 390 lbs. based upon Earth standard.

'She was probably an ODST," thought Gary, 'Wonder where she was during the battle? At least she didn't end up like… don't think about it, PTSD is a no-no.'

The squad finally arrived at Mess Hall 06, one of the 12 Cafeterias on board the ship. In either the diverging paths in the other directions were the doors labeled "Barrack Region-K, Room #100-217," the size of modern ships these days allowed for Barracks to technically be dormitories where each person got their own room yet shared the same "Barrack region."

The echoes from the Mess hall where the men marched toward the sound of a movie were playing and the laughter of soldiers gave the squad a sense of nostalgia.

Entering the expansive cafeteria, several large holographic screens around the rooms played a solid movie from 3-D laser enhanced projection similar to that of 21st century film projectors.

Looking up at the movie screen, Gary saw some rated-R movie was playing at the moment; it seemed to be one about the alien Forerunners, though the movie's credibility toward the extinct race was obviously wrong except for possibly the basic details that any normal civilian could tell you from watching or reading the news that appeared on _Waypoint_ every so often.

Anyway, as the film progressed there was an extreme amount of profanity that made even some of the most self-absorbed or hardcore soldier have a slight chuckle at the too many cheesy puns or laughable moments that blared: too much work had been put into the movie made it hilariously funny in its failures, not its success.

The special effects were splendid though character development and plot sorely lacked. The movie itself was a parody about the end of the Forerunners following a disarranged family that was the leader of the Forerunners at the time as their world came to an end, though the data was shockingly false compared to what the squad had seen on _Aragon_ the other day.

The leader "_President Super Didact_" and his wife the "_Book Keeper_" had two children named "_Adam_" and "_Eve_" who would eventually become the first humans through stunted evolution because they got dropped on their heads too much as babies.

The family had to deal with the pet monkeys that caused an apocalypse, the monkeys would later become brutes and tried to eat their masters would may have created advanced technologies and did not fight back, attempting peaceful talking the apes down which failed and eventually led to their demise.

There was a lot of disturbing or stupid moments that Gary just simply ignored.

The movie, "_End of the Mantle: Brute Uprising_," had yet to hit theaters across human space because as military, there was a small pile of benefits that came to being enlisted. Watching movies before the rest of the populous was one of the benefits.

Looking away from the screens, Gary walked over to a table that Silva had sat down upon next to _Fireteams Asphalt_, _Keyhole_, and _Rhino_: other Army Rangers fireteams assigned to the _Seventh Column_ on its tour of duty, who were at the moment to engross in the movie to notice the rest of their platoon sit down next to them.

Cooper was still off getting a late meal from the cooks, they were serving Moa Meat in Asian dipping sauce, a rare delicacy as their natural biosphere, Reach, had been glassed by the Covenant in 2552, and they were still on sale due to them populating other planets yet not as much as Reach used to have, the price of credits had risen up at least 40 full points; so serving it was a rare treat.

Not paying any attention and allowing himself to get engrossed in the movie, Gary did not notice the Fireteam Asphalt woman that was sitting next to him whap him across the back of the head.

Freaking him out for a split second, he turned to face her.

"How is Smith?" the girl, First Class Major Samantha Bruno, Gary's childhood friend asked.

"What no hello or how you feeling?" he teased back.

"Seriously…"

"He's recovering; he should be combat ready by tomorrow."

"Good, so how have _you _been doing?" Samantha asked finally.

"Good, now that you ask, though…" Gary sighed.

"Something happened..." She questioned.

"Ya…"

"What?"

"A young woman maybe in her late 20s got shot through the head when we were being extracted, I could have saved her." He stated.

"You can't blame yourself." Samantha replied

"Why not, the Beam was in my field of view. I should have been able to stop it." He said.

"Tell me about it." She said.

"We'll we were riding down the impact site from the MAC strike, you saw it right?"

"Ya…" Samantha suggested.

"Well, were ridding down in two transport Warthogs, we were riding and me and her were talking and I thanked her for the rescue… then out of nowhere… Boom! She was dead on the bench in front of me and the other guy next to me was quiet almost in shock." Gary said.

"I almost got hit myself as we rode along; I took cover under the canopy and wrapped a towel around her upper body to hide the scene. After that I saved the driver when a Brute attempted to jump the front of the vehicle and send us crashing…" He finished.

"It's ok, it's not your fault, you were at least able to save the driver and come back home to all of us." She said as she waved her arms around wide, pointing to all the Army Rangers around the small cluster of tables.

"I know, but the guilt is sometimes too much too take." Gary muttered.

"It may seem that way, but at least you move on, you don't have PTSD like so many others here." Samantha replied.

"Thanks for the talk…"

"Go sleep on it, I'll see you in the barracks in a few hours." Samantha said as she turned back to watch the movie.

Getting up from the table, Gary walked toward the hallway and instead of heading to the barracks; he went to the gym on ground floor.

He had to jump an elevator, wait 6 minutes for it to reach the gym floor only 4 stories below.

Once he had arrived below, Gary grabbed a towel from the steel table in the short corridor to the two bathrooms and entered the gym by putting his eye to the scanner and allowed himself access.

Entering the room, he walked over to one of the sand bags full of powder aluminum hanging from its pedestal and almost immediately after putting on safety training gloves, took a breath, and threw a punch.

"Pop."

"Pop."

"Pop."

"Pop-Pop."

"Pop-Pop."

"Pop."

"Pop."

"Pop!"

"…"

The sounds of his punches connecting with the bag suddenly stopped as he felt his fists flow through the air around him.

Looking up and around him, he saw that the bag was being held up by a rough guy at around 6', 4''; at least 6 inches taller than Gary, most likely a marine since he had a tank top on with the U.N.S.C.M.C tattoo running around the circumference of his arm.

"You, Valor 0-2?" He practically yelled in his ear.

"Ya, what you want with me?" Gary yelled back.

"Gunnery Sergeant Patrick Fennels, the woman who died the other day, Specialist Fennels, died under your watch the other day." He said, this time with a softer tone close to a whisper.

"What does that have to do with me and you, sir?" Gary asked without losing a beat or changing tones knowing the guy technically out ranked him, even though he was a much more experienced infantryman.

"Everything, you should have saved her! She was my younger sister, you Mike Foxtrot!" he yelled again.

Grabbing Gary by the shoulders, he threw him 5 feet toward the basketball courts rolling and making Gary smacks his head into the hardwood floor.

"You should be dead, she should be alive, not you!"

Knowing the man would not back down to reason like many enraged soldiers; Gary put his fists up in standard martial arts stance ready for the coming brawl.

The 'GY SGT' did the same and a standoff of half a second ensued.

Then all hell broke loose.

Getting slightly closers by leaning in Patrick brought his fist out into an underhand jab attempting to catch Gary under his guard only for the said man to narrowly dodge yet leave his back open for attack.

Attempting to use that, he failed to notice Gary step in closer and bring his knee up into Patrick's lower chest and knocking him back wheezing.

Gary pulling himself out of the knee uppercut got down and into and putting enough energy into a counter tackle as Patrick grappled with him until Gary was on the floor and Patrick had a fist raised when Gary pulled a sucker punch and slammed the Gunnery Sergeant in the small upper stomach muscle of the rib cage.

Patrick's fist connected with Gary's nose which quickly became bloodied yet Gary's punch was strong enough to leave Patrick doubling over holding his chest in pain.

Just as Gary got up with his now bruised nose and looked over at the officer who was extremely in pain, prepared to knock the marine out, Gary slowly walked toward Patrick and was about to deliver a knockout punch to his back not noticing the crowd that had been watching as Patrick was spitting blood.

Suddenly, Gary was in a headlock and the dazed Patrick was being supported by two on-duty marines that had been there for ship security.

Restrained, Gary allowed himself to loosen up his muscles and just leaned there waiting for the Marine company commander to start cursing them out.

Even though he was already trapped in marine arms, Gary could see that Patrick still was gunning for a fight as he attempted to fight his captors who had bring another security marine over to restrain him.

Though instead of the Marine Company commander, the holographic form of the _Seventh Column's _AI, _Washington_, a standard 5th generation Artificial Intelligence.

Washington was about 4.5 feet tall, or at least in his full projected form, he gave off a sky blue hue yet unlike his namesake, the great father of the once great United States, he chose to wear an army camouflage battle dress uniform from the 22nd century along with combat boots yet kept his iconic powdered wig and triple topped hat from the 17th century and had an iconic Colt M4A3, an old 21st and 22nd century assault weapon used by U.S. armed force in the Rainforest Wars.

The A.I held a sense of leadership around him even though he was just as much a machine.

Ever since the war ended, the U.N.S.C had been putting everything they could put together into the military, everything from ships to making faster ways to make near instant hamburgers. were paid no expense, the higher ups wanted that were comparable or to an extent, surpassing _Cortana_, the first official 3rd generation A.I, the literal brain-child of the late prestige Doctor Catherine Elizabeth Halsey and one of the greatest war assets the U.N.S.C had in their hands in the closing days of the Covenant War.

Most military-issued to this day were either 5th or 4th generation Artificial Intelligence, though anything below said generations were assigned to more private and civilian use.

"Fennels, Hartmann, get a grip!" spoke the A.I as he made a motion to put his hands behind his back and paced between the two aggressors.

"You two know the rules, no fights in any part of the ship unless training or an official fight tournament was authorized by a company commander or the captain himself," Washington said. "Now, marines get these two to the infirmary to get patched up and afterward, send Fennels to the psychiatrist for aggressive case of PTSD. Hartmann, I would suggest joining him, though you seem to have some form of control, I will let you off the hook; dismissed!"

As the soldiers grappled the two men toward the infirmary, the A.I turned toward the lingering crowd, "Well, what are you waiting for, move like you have a purpose."

Then as the crowd finally returned to their old business, Washington flashed out of existence.

**["SHORE LEAVE"]**

**[SEPTEMBER 2555]**

**[SHP CPT. FU GUZHANG – "DRAGON ACTUAL"]**

**[ONBOARD U.N.S.C '**_**SUN TZU – CLASS'**_** DESTROYER: ****SEVENTH COLUMN****, ENROUTE TO LUNA (*POST COLE PROTOCOL*)]**

In the large cavernous bridge of the _U.N.S.C Seventh Column_, Ship Captain Fu Guzhang, an experienced war veteran of 8 years and a man of Sino-Korean descent hailing from the now glassed colony of New Beijing, sat in his arm chair as he watched the engine hydraulics on the main monitor, a 10 yard by 11 yard high definition screen at the front of the bridge.

On his left toward the wall, Washington flashed into existence.

"Captain, the fight in the gym has been neutralized; Sgt. Hartmann and Gy Sgt. Fennels are in the infirmary for light injuries." Washington spoke.

"Good works, 朋友, tell me what our status is till we reach Luna?" asked Guzhang.

"Another 58.346 hours sir, of course you probably already knew that."

"I just wanted to make sure; after all I'm turning 68 in 2 weeks." Guzhang replied in steady English.

"Sir, new report coming through from Naval Intelligence; they want us to drop out of FTL in 5 minutes, the O.N.I Loki-class Stealth Prowler _Karma is Back_. Strange sir, U.N.S.C records show that this star system lacks any habitable planets or any form of artifact yet O.N.I seems to think there is something here, in the Ross 128 System." Washington said as his avatar seemed to mimic a man going through a thick file cabinet.

"God dammed. I was planning a nice break of shore leave once we got back to Mars, … fine prepare to exit slipspace, and send a report to the company commanders to have their men combat ready, just in case we find something we want or don't want to see."

"Aye Aye, sir." Washington said than disappeared off to take care of the errand.

As quickly as the conversation ended, the 5 minute mark hit and the ship exited slipspace right before the _O.N.I Karma is Back_; yet the thing that awed the experienced captain was not the abnormal size of the stealth prowler, even though the ship was at least 500 meters across.

It was a strange unknown alien artifice that floated untouched, it was daunting and according to the ship computer; the artifact was nearly a 15 kilometer long turning fork except with two rings in the center along the handle, it was made with similar metal alloys to that of Forerunner artifacts yet it was painted light grey and the surface was mostly smooth with a more Covenant styled theme to it, yet Guzhang could tell, this was no old Covenant trap. It just gave off a feeling of older, longer lasting, as if it stood the test of time.

Suddenly a smaller version of Washington appeared on the armchair's personal projector.

"Sir, the _Karma_ is contacting us."

"Patch them through." was Guzhang's simple reply as the little hologram flashed out of existence once again.

Guzhang spoke under his own breath, "We're not in Kansas anymore."

(-)

***U.N.S.C ARCHIVES* - A.I. ACCESS: CTN 0187-6 "WASHINGTON"**

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**And again guys, sorry about the delay, I have been extremely busy taking care of summer jobs, prepping for AP classes, and working out with my high school swim team. I know that were coming up close to the Fourth of July, and I want to wish you guys all a happy Independence Day if you live here in the United States. I will be updating more frequently starting this week so expect another updated chapter or 2 to arrive by Saturday, thanks for visiting, and please R&R.**

**Hey guys, another note, the next rerun chapters are coming to a close because I'm going to be shoveling both reruns of Chapter 3 and 4 into one chapter to make up for the abnormally short Chapter 2. The nostalgia of Halo is almost over, I will be breaking into the Mass Effect Universe soon enough, the next chapter will be up by tomorrow or Thursday on FOURTH OF JULY!**

**Happy Independence Day, America!**

**Thanks to Reviewers that have left me with great detail, hammering out the details around plot, and those who allowed me to correct mistakes in these Chapters:**

**-Luckyiswithyouall**

**-Michael1110**

**-Guest/BAMS* (You guys probably don't know this but the truth is that we were both wrong, according to _Halo Nation under article 'Artifical Intelligence':_ "Cortana - CTN 0452-9 - UNSC Military A.I. (Third Generation Smart A.I.)"**

**-J.E.P 1996**

**-arrow monger**

**- Spartan G257**

**- forget the rest**


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